Where the will existsHope will bloomEven in a broken hearts empty tombWhere despair takes root Hope will dieAs soon as the baby leaves the womb

The will to liveIs tied to our pleasureThe will to dieBegins when we lose our treasure

For no man’s sakeWill an evil man sufferWhile his oratory is a rose garden His actions blacken the gutter

Is it any wonder we cling to our vicesFor when the angry streets are our homeAnd there is no welcome wherever we roamThen what comfort can be boughtExcept in a dark alley at nightFrom the man who provides artificial light?

And yet a sad woman on the corner smiled todayShe laughed aloud despite her circumstanceWith no need for ambition or upward mobilityShe already knew who would give her a chance

She was asked why she was born in MexicoWhy not ask why she has the will to live?But in the eyes of her daughter lies the answerAnd Jesus knows who it is that he will forgive